already in love
by Cynthia03
Summary: For CS AU week beloved tropes - friends to lovers.


It's a Thursday when Killian realizes he's in love with his best friend. Well, has been in love with her for a bloody long time and _knows_ she feels the same way too.

He's always known that he fancies her – when she rolls her eyes at him, when she tells him how she tracked down a sleaze ball while using such colorful curses which would put pirates to shame, when she tries to hide her tears during _Lion King_ and kicks him when he cocks a teasing eyebrow at her.

Hell, even when she shows up at his door at 3 a.m. in her pajamas, a bottle of rum in one hand, and tears streaming down her face. The lost girl inside her catching up to her as she sobs in his arms, not caring that her tears and snot is sticking to his shirt.

He fancies her.

(Even when she's yelling at him.)

/

He's in a hospital when he decides to finally _tell_ her.

Killian tries to sit up but winces, a voice tsking at him before it speaks, "Your ankle is sprained."

"Bloody hell" he rubs his hand over his face. He hates hospitals - there's just a smell to them which makes him want to leave and never come back. He's taken to see a specialist at a high-end clinic instead of coming to the hospital for his hand. Seems like the hospital got upset and took revenge on him.

He knows he'll never hear the end of this from Emma, David, and Robin, and never hear the end of Regina, his half-sister, snarking at him for this stupid accident. Emma will probably never let him drive his bike anymore.

Damn that dog and damn that old man. For a second there, lying on the ground after being hit by a car and bumping his head on the tree in front of him, he thought he was going to die. Interestingly, just before he hit the ground, his life flashed before his eyes.

(He always was such a drama queen.)

The last thing he saw before he passed out was her face, a wide smile making her nose scrunch in the adorable way, and his last thought was of regret. Regret of not ever telling her.

~~xx~~

The nurse winks at Killian as she slides in some extra jello containers to him.

"Your discharge papers should be ready anytime soon, Mr. Jones" she informs him, forming her lips into a pout, "Coincidently, my shift also ends then."

Killian smirks. He's no stranger to women finding him attractive and flirting with him. Normally, he would put on his _stupid smoldering look_ (as Emma calls it) and make some innuendo asking the nurse out, but poor timing on her part.

He's only looking for one woman –

– who barges the door open. Her eyes are wide and red, the tear tracks still evident on her face; her breathing erratic.

He doesn't even get a chance to say something before she's hugging him, her hands digging into his back, and her face buried in the crook of his neck. He bites back his wince at the force of her hug, and instead brings his arms around hers, burying his face in her blonde hair.

"Oh shit sorry, I'm probably hurting you" she sniffles, separating from him but keeping her hands on his shoulders as she sits on the side of the bed.

"That's alright, Swan" he smiles, brushing her tears away with his thumb.

"You gave me a scare" she tells him, her eyes searching his face for any pain or anything.

"Well, I must say the emergency doctor over-reacted." He doesn't mention that even he overreacted. And he dare not mention what _actually_ happened.

"Yeah, David had to take over my patrol runs when I panicked. When I got here, one of the nurses told me to calm down as you only had a sprained ankle" she informs him, pushing the hair back from his forehead, "You need a haircut"

"Perhaps I should change my emergency contact from you to David?" he offers earnestly – he has no one, except her and David and a few friends. "And aye, I have an appointment on Sunday"

Her nose scrunches in the adorable way as she makes her classis _what the fuck_ face, "I didn't mean that. I'm just saying that the person who called me scared the living shit out of me when she called."

He grins at that and wiggles his eyebrows, earing a swat on his shoulder from her.

"Take me to Granny's love, I'm starving" he pleads, standing up gently and politely refusing the help of the nurse. Emma brings his prosthetic to him, turning his wrist and caressing it gently before she attaches it. It still warms his heart of how gentle she is with him, how it has never bothered her that one of his hand is ugly and scarred.

"Alright. You're paying" she helps him stand up and he drapes an arm across her shoulder for support. More so just so he could touch her.

"It's a date" he smiles, only half-joking. Really he's just trying to see her reaction. He hopes that maybe some day, when he's not afraid to tell her about his feelings, or one day when she's not a stubborn arse, they might go on an actual date. A real one with them both dressed up and where he could kiss her goodbye. A man can wish after all.

She rolls her eyes.

/

The next morning, Emma hands him a cup of steaming hot tea and fights back a grin, "So did you take a picture of the dog for whom you stopped your bike and got hit by Gepetto?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about" he fights back a grin of his own.

"Really? Cause Gepetto just came in the morning apologizing profusely and offered to fix your bike and brought you a picture of that dog."

She's grinning widely now and Killian can't help but smile.

He's never going to hear the end of this.

~~xx~~

Later he'll blame the fourth glass of wine, or the fact that he's lonely, or how absolutely breath-taking Emma is looking in that pale blue dress for his sudden courage.

It was no surprise that Mary Margaret and David were getting married. They had been the real deal since well, since they started dating freshman year. He was beyond ecstatic and touched that David had chosen him to be his best man while Mary Margaret had chosen Emma for her maid of honor.

They're dancing on the floor, the customary best man and maid of honor dance when he spills, "Have you ever thought about us?" 

"What?" she looks up at him from where her cheek was resting against his chest as they swayed to the slow music.

"You and me? Like…romantically?"

She stills for a moment and seems taken aback, "Where's this coming from?"

"Nothing, I was just curious. Ignore it," he shakes his head, "Sorry, love"

~~xx~~

He's dancing with Regina after David had interrupted and asked to dance with Emma.

"You seem nervous" Regina says in the upright way she does, like she couldn't give two shits, "Is everything all right?"…but then of course she cares

"Aye, since when do you care?" he teases.

She rolls her eyes, "Seriously what is it?"

He sighs and his gaze drifts towards Emma. She's laughing at something David said and all he can think about is kissing the dimple on her chin.

"Is it Emma?"

"Pardon?"

"Did you finally realize you're in love with her?"

Killian stops. He raises an eyebrow in question before he starts swayving again.

"Oh please" she continues, "I've known it since college. You were _gone_ for her."

Killian snickers, no use in denying it, "That I was, still am."

"You should tell her. You both deserve to be happy."

He raises a teasing eyebrow at her, as if she could ever care about anyone else's happiness but her own.

"Aye"

~~xx~~

They're back at David and Mary Margaret's new house, the couple not leaving for their honeymoon until the weekend and being _them_ , didn't want to be alone tonight (something Killian doesn't understand since he'd want to ravish his wife the moment they got home).

On Mary Margaret's insistence, Emma, Killian, Regina, Ruby, and Robin came along for some more drinks, the men bringing in the beer cases.

Emma is nowhere to be seen when Killian comes back with the beer, two bottles in his hand as he scans the room. Regina teases him about looking like a lost puppy and tells him that Emma's in the backyard, giving him a pointed look before he leaves.

She's sitting on one of the porch's sofa's, her head leaning against the back and her eyes shut. He sits beside her quietly, smiling softly as her head drops to his shoulder. He feels her exhale on the side of his neck, and his breath hitches when she moves closer, her hand resting on top of his, making him nearly drop the beer bottles. It isn't the first time she's touched him like this, or cuddled up to him, but before he used to push away his thoughts about how good she smelled or how soft her skin was. Now that he has finally confronted and put a name to his feelings, he's blushing like a school boy with a crush.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Emma sighs loudly and sits up straight, taking the bottle of beer from him and twisting it open, "Kind of" she says before drinking more than half of it at once.

"You know they're still going to be there for you" he tells her, and watches as she half-smiles.

"I know. But now they're married, and you know they're the dog and kids type…is it bad that I'm very happy for them but also a bit upset at my best friend's getting married?"

"It's just being human. We want what's best for our friends and family, but there's still a part of that can't help being jealous if we don't have that...yet"

Emma smiles sympathetically at him, remembering the way he was after coming back from London from Liam's wedding. He loves his brother, very much so, but knowing he has turned his sad life around and found love, while he was still being haunted by Milah breaking things off to be with her husband, did wake the green monster in him.

"That's not is, is it?" he says, a statement rather than a question.

Emma shakes her head, he is too good at reading her. She takes a few sips of her beer before she speaks, "Robin and Regina are engaged, Ruby is moving in with Mulan. Everyone's moving forward and having a good future, while I'm just _here_ , stuck"

"I'm here too" he blurts out.

Emma snaps her head towards him, a tingle of wonderment in her gaze as she looks back and forth between his eyes. "You're here too" she repeats his words, a confused frown marring her features before she looks away.

"And I intend to stay for a long time" he says with conviction, squeezing her hand for good measure.

"Good"

And he should, _wants_ to tell her that maybe they could have a future together if only they tried and stopped tip-toeing around each other, but she's emotional and sad right now. He doesn't want to scare her away or worse, take advantage of her being vulnerable right now. So he just wraps his arm around her and presses a kiss to her forehead and _waits._

~~xx~~

Two weeks later Emma surprises Killian during his lunch break, both of them making their way to the little café just at the shore. He orders Mr. Smee to take care of a shipment that is about to arrive, before he joins her.

They walk side by side, a comfortable silence befallen them. There's a slight breeze in the air, making him want to push Emma's flying hair back, but instead runs his hand over his own dark head.

"You need a haircut _again_ " she says as she notices him push his hair back once they're seated out in the patio of the café.

"Maybe I'll grow them out. Long hair is back in fashion" he smirks, "Did you know David once had shoulder-length hair? I've seen pictures."

" _No._ You are not growing your hair out" she glares at him, "And yes I've seen them, I call it his Jesus hair"

Killian grins, "Why, Swan, it is after all _my_ hair. I'm set on growing it out"

She reaches across the table and pulls at his long hair at the nape of his neck, "It's started curling down here, Killian. Get a haircut."

"Didn't know you were so invested in my hair, love"

"I'm not" she makes a show about picking up the menu card even though they both know what she's going to get, "And I'm invested in _your_ hair? You spend most of your time playing with my hair"

"It's so soft!"

Emma smiles and suddenly bites her lip, the way she does when an idea strikes her, "If you don't cut your hair, I will cut my hair."

"Don't you dare" he says a bit too loudly, the couple on the table next to them giving them weird looks.

She quirks an eyebrow up, "What do you say?"

"Once again Swan, why are you invested in my hair" and because he's _him_ and he cannot just let this go by, "That's what girlfriends do"

Emma's smile drops, and she leans back in her chair, her gaze still holding his. He sees the fear, uncertainty, and something else like _hope_ creeping in her eyes, before she smiles brightly, _too_ brightly, and asks him what he plans to order.

/

"So why this surprise lunch date, Swan?" he asks as they're waiting for the bill.

She shrugs, "We haven't seen each other this entire week and why not?"

"That's what girlfriends do" he blurts out and immediately curses himself. He did not mean to say it again but it seems like he cannot keep it in control anymore.

Emma gives him a look, and before he can apologize or change the topic, she surprises him, "Killian. Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

" _This_ " she gestures between them both, "Let's be honest, we've both thought about it, taking this to another level but it's just not going to happen"

"Why not?" he asks. If the can of worms has been opened, let it open all the damn way.

"It won't work" she says immediately as if she's thought about this reason often, "I'll mess it up."

"What? No, you _won't_ mess it up"

"Wait, so you _want_ for us to take this to the next level?" she's looking at him with a weird expression, half fear and half hope.

And he has lied about this for way too long to himself, and too long to her as well.

"Aye" he states firmly, "I want more"

He expects her to yell, to walk away, to scream, to throw something at him, a part of him hoping she kisses him –

She laughs.

"You can't be serious. It would never work out between us" she says, her eyes dancing with amusement yet he catches the small flicker of hope gleaming in them.

"Emma, it _will_ work out between us" he says confidently, not wanting to brush this up by making a joke out of it like she's attempting to do.

"How do you know?" she teases him, keeping up her façade.

"Because we're already _in_ a relationship"

The shock and confusion on her face is clear, "What?"

"We do all things that couples do already. Except we don't kiss or engage in other more enjoyable activities, but that's okay" he shrugs.

She looks like she wants to either punch him or kiss him so he stays quiet, giving her a moment to take in the new revelations.

Finally she speaks, the fake smile playing on her lips and the false teasing present in her eyes, "Killian, not to be rude, but I wouldn't date you. We make great friends, and I'm sure you'll be an amazing boyfriend to someone, but just not me. We're not compatible that way."

He tries not to take it too personally. He's well-aware of what she's trying to do – to push him away or even make him angry so he drops this topic, but he's anything but persistent, "Is that so?"

She nods.

"You think I'm not datable?"

"No!" she clarifies quickly, "You _are_ datable. But just not good for me." The way she won't even meet his eyes as she says this and the way her voice falters, surprises him that she thinks she's actually fooling him.

"I intend to prove you wrong."

"You can try" she tries to say it flippantly as if she doesn't care about it, but he catches the way her breath hitches, the way her eyes widen slightly, and the way she looks at his face, her eyes, her beautiful green eyes telling him all he needs to know. They shine with a glimmer of fear, hope, and happiness.

He will try. After all, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. And he would fight anything and as long as needed for Emma.

~~xx~~

"I make you the best hot cocoa" he hands her her Harry Potter cup she keeps at his apartment.

She licks the whipped cream off and he tries not to stare at her tongue disappearing and how much he'd like to taste that whipped cream from her, "What?"

"Reasons why I'm datable" he sits beside her, "Or rather why you should date me"

Emma stares at him, trying to give him a bored look but he sees the way her lips are failing to try to turn up in a smile, "Granny makes the best cocoa."

"But Granny won't give you cocoa half past midnight when you're wearing my shirt and plan to pass out on my couch"

She pursues her lip. "Whatever. Play the episode."

"As you wish."

~~xx~~

"I bring you onion rings" he announces as he sits beside her in her office, just the two of them there as David is still on his honeymoon. "What a great boyfriend am I?" he clutches his chest dramatically, making Emma snort as she snatches the brown bag from him.

~~xx~`

Over the next month he himself learns just how in a relationship they really are as he starts noticing the things he does for her, and she does for him.

"I watch these sodding Harry Potter movies with you."

"You bake me cupcakes."

"I throw your trash out."

"You remind me to cut my hair."

"I cheer you on in your drinking games."

"You bring me soup when I'm sick."

Emma reacts differently to them all – sometimes she grins, sometimes she quirks an eyebrow up. Sometimes she ignores it, and sometimes she smiles sadly.

But she never asks him to stop.

~~xx~~

It's one of the very rare occasions where Emma is cooking. A video she saw on the internet has her all inspired to try cooking this new dish, and as always, Killian is willing guinea pig and helper.

She's stirring some sort of sauce on the stove, telling him how horrible the _Fifty Shades_ movie was which she was forced to go watch with Ruby.

"Even the sex scenes were meh" she shrugs.

"I assure you, love, I'm very good in bed" he tilts his head, winking at her as she snaps her head to look at him, "Won't leave you unsatisfied."

She rolls her eyes, "You know what they say about men who boast about themselves. And you own a freaking boat too; compensating for something, huh?"

Emma bumps her shoulder with his, teasing him as she moves towards the cabinets, stretching up to grab the box of corn flour on the top shelf. Once she turns, Killian is there. He takes a step forward and is suddenly _almost_ pressed up to her.

He watches as Emma swallows, blinking rapidly as she tries to even out her breathing. He's so close, _too_ close; she can smell the rum they were drinking on his breath, the smoke of his cigarette clinging to his shirt. She can see the mark on his left cheek, her fingers itching to trace it. And his eyes – his eyes so blue, and _too_ blue, looking down at her in a lustful haze, yet a softness and fondness shining in them.

Killian brings his bad arm around her waist, slipping his wrist inside her shirt just a bit, chuckling as she gasps. His other arm comes up, his hand cupping her jaw as his thumb brushes the side of her lips. He smiles as she shuts her eyes, her head titling up unconsciously, awaiting a kiss.

But not like this.

He needs to know that when he finally kisses her, finally releases himself out of this torture and give into what he's desired for ages, that she won't run away. That she _wants_ it, and is not just acting based off of her hormones.

But he still leans down, allowing himself this much as he rests his forehead against hers, their noses brushing. His thumb moves at a constant rhythm on her cheek, their lips inches apart. He exhales loudly against her, and Emma can almost feel the vibrations of it against her lips.

He presses a kiss to her cheek and then her forehead before he forces himself to take a step back from her, his arms back to his side.

She's still leaning on the counter with one hand over her beating heart and her eyes firmly staring at the floor when he turns and stirs their food on the stove.

She joins him a moment later, her cheeks flushed and a sheepish smile playing on her lips and Killian decides she's never looked this beautiful before.

~~xx~~

There's a knock on his door when he's shirtless and brushing his teeth, preparing to go to bed.

He'd normally grumble and roll his eyes and he swears to god if its his new loud neighbor Will bloody Scarlet asking him for the number of his pretty short brunette friend, he'll kill him

But as he spots Emma on the other side of his door, with her eyes full of unshed tears and a sad frown, he quietly steps aside and lets her come in.

She makes a beeline for his room, slumping down on his bed and pulling the covers over herself. They haven't really shared a bed that many times since the Incident – him with a boner pressed up to her from behind and Emma's tank top ridden up, revealing half of her breasts. They had avoided each other for about a week after that before they laughed it off.

He puts a shirt on and slides in next to her, offering her his arm and she accepts it, resting her head on his arm, her hand sliding up his chest to rest where his neck meets shoulder, "You want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head, "Just met the kid Regina and Robin adopted."

"Henry" he nods. He met the boy yesterday when he stopped by their house to well, meet his nephew. He was quiet most of the meeting – understandably so – but appreciated the soccer ball Killian got him. Robin and Regina seemed overjoyed to have Henry be with them – he's never seen Regina _ever_ be this kind and caring for well…anyone. As much as he teases her for having a dark and black heart, or being the Evil Queen in her past life, he knows she'll be an excellent mother as flashes of her being overly protective and fierce of him alongside Liam flash before his eyes.

"He's 10. And they _still_ wanted him. Once you pass the age of 5, nobody wants you" she cries, her voice so small. He brings his arm to wrap around her waist, pulling her towards him until her face is pressed to his chest. He can feel her tears falling on his chest, so he just runs a smoothing hand down her back, and presses his lips to his ear, whispering assurances.

After a few moments, when her breathing has settled and her sobs are gone, she looks up at him, "I'm sorry I ruined your shirt."

He brushes her tears away, a soft smile lifting his lips, "That's alright, love. It says to not wash it with hot water, it says nothing about washing it with tears."

She laughs, and he is proud of himself for a second to be able to make her laugh even when she's so distraught.

It's on the tip of his tongue – _I comfort you when you're upset_ – but he's not an asshole and has no intention to play this situation for his own benefit, so he remains quiet, just keeps on running his hand over he back in soothing pace.

"Killian" she whispers and he looks down. She's grinning almost mischievously, confusing him as to where this is about to go.

He quirks an eyebrow and she continues, "You comfort me when I'm crying."

A smile breaks across his face at this admission, at her choosing to participate in this little game they've been playing.

He kisses her forehead in answer, and he takes it as a good sign when she tightens her hold on him and buries her face in his chest.

~~xx~~

He catches her this time when she tries to distract him, just to take bite out of his cup of ice-cream. Slapping her arm away, he tries to steal a bite of hers but her hold on his wrist his tight and _damn_ she's strong as hell.

(He tries not to think about how it would feel to have her use this deathgrip on his hand, pushing it into the mattress as she moves over him - )

"Why don't you just get a double-scoop, Swan, instead of stealing from mine?" he questions her once she's assured he won't try to steal hers and lets his hand go.

"Because it's so much fun to steal yours" she snickers, "And you get the best flavor"

"Pirate" he accuses her, making a show of eating his own and then moaning once he gulps it down.

She rolls her eyes at him and takes a bite of her own ice-cream, mirroring his own moans. He chuckles, "At least let me try yours?"

"Okay, one bite" she warns, offering him the spoon and instead of taking it from her, he opens his mouth, letting Emma feed her.

A bit of it drips from the spoon onto his lips and he licks it off, smiling once he notices Emma staring at his lips, her own tongue coming out to lick at her lower lip.

They're almost nearing her apartment when he remembers his game, which has now become a habit. He grins, "I let you eat my ice-cream."

Emma stops, her gaze drifting to him with slight annoyance, "Till when are you going to keep this up?"

His smile falters, "Love, if you don't like this, I will stop at once."

"So then you _don't_ want to be with me?"

"Of course I want to be with you, Emma, more than anything" he confesses, taking a step towards her, "All I want is for you to think about this, about us. Don't let your walls stop you from being happy and being loved."

She inhales sharply once he mentions _love_. Her lower lips trembles so he envelops her in a hug, grateful that he hasn't scared her away when she wraps her arm around him. It's awkward as they're in the middle of the street and they're both holding ice cream cups in one hand but he doesn't care.

He separates from her finally and brushes her golden curls away from her face, Emma still staring at him with a look of wonder, "I will keep up this game as long as you'd allow me."

She smiles.

"But do think about it, about us," he taps his finger on the side of her forehead, "And to think, I give you" he glances down at his watch as if to check the time, "My entire life"

Emma blinks, her throat burning with unshed tears as Killian smiles at her and with a pointed look, walks away.

In so few words, he said _so_ much.

~~xx~~

Emma ignores him for the remainder of the week, thankful that he knows her that much that he isn't pushing her.

Its not that she doesn't like him, it's that that she _does,_ has since he first made an attempt at flirting with her in freshman year, but they just never got the timing right. She had Neal, then he had Milah, then she had Walsh, and he had Tink – they were never really _both_ single, until, well now. But throughout the years, even when they were with different people, she never stopped liking him, and she knew he wanted her too – all the lingering glances, heated looks, and of course the utter devotion to each other as friends.

She's had bad experiences with men, really she's had bad experience with _people_ in general. Finding Mary Margaret in freshman year and along with her all these other people, is the closest she has ever and will ever be to a family. An image of little blond heads with blue eyes flash before her eyes which she hastily ignores.

She doesn't want to lose him, _can't_ lose him which is why even though every cell in her body, and her heart (whom she usually ignores) is telling her to just be with him, to take this next step as they both _know_ they are already in love and have been for a long time. It would just be about damn time.

But she can't lose him. And everyone, leaves at some point.

She'll tell him to stop what he's been doing these past two months, tell him she only wants to be friends, and she knows he'll respect her decision. Ignoring him this past week has just made her miserable, and this is what happens when you're together and with a person – someone gets angry, they ignore each other, and then never talk. She doesn't want that with Killian – she wants to go back to _just_ being friends. Nothing more. This way she gets to keep him forever (even if it breaks her heart).

So when Killian texts her, _Wanna continue Game of Thrones at my place tonight?_ , she doesn't ignore him but instead, _I got the pizza, you get the rum_

She tells herself it'd be enough, being friends with him would be enough.

(She's always been an excellent liar.)

~~xx~~

Emma sighs in relief once she reaches his doorstep. She had decided to walk, and halfway to his apartment, it had started pouring as if Poisedon had just decided to be a little shit to the mortals.

She lets herself in in his apartment and a quick sweep around the house tells her he isn't home yet. Dropping her bag near his entrance, she runs inside his room to avoid dripping all over his apartment, knowing how irate he will get, being the neat freak that he is.

She strips down in his bathroom, wrapping his towel around herself before she heads towards his closet. She hopes there is some underwear or anything of hers that she left behind during one of those drunken nights where she just passed out on his couch, or else if she could find a smaller pair of boxers and maybe his Star Wars t-shirt.

She finds the a small pair of boxers with anchors on them and slips them up, covering her torso with the towel as she looks for a soft tee without messing his closet up. Digging into the back of his closet, where she's seen him search for his nerdy merchandise to give to her to wear, her hands land on something soft. _Really_ soft.

She pulls it out, confused as to why he never showed or gave her this thing since he knows she demands for his softest tee whenever she stays over.

Once it's out and in her hand, she gasps loudly, making the sweater fall to the floor. She almost wishes she could see herself in a mirror right now because her heart is pounding, her eyes are wide, and her mouth is hanging open in shock.

Finally, she bends down to pick the sweater up, her mouth still hanging open. She turns it around and inspects it, and it _is_ indeed _that_ sweater. The one she knitted during second year when she tagged along with Mary Margaret for a knitting club. She made it to the fourth class before she gave up, exploding out the class mid-way and straight to her shared apartment with Mary Margaret with the almost done sweater in her hands.

When he had come over in the evening to get her to go over his essay, he had spotted the blue unfinished sweater hanging out of her purse, and being the nosy son of a bitch he was, he had dragged it out and with his expressive eyebrows had teased her relentlessly for doing something so _not_ Emma.

(He also teased her about how the blue was almost the colour of his eyes and she had just rolled her eyes and told him to not give himself too much important – _of course_ she hadn't chosen that colour of yarn thinking about how it was sea blue just like his eyes. Of course not).

Sitting beside her on her bed, he laid the sweater out and grinned as he had noticed the little yellow duck Emma was making on the corner, "Emma that is honestly quite adorable" he said, offering her genuine praise.

"Whatever. You can throw it out when you leave. I'm not completing it." she shook her head.

"Come on, love. It's almost done, don't be like that"

She had ignored him then, focusing more on what he had written about Marx's idea of communism in his essay, that she didn't notice how he was still intently examining the sweater.

/

Looking down at the sweater, Emma runs a hand over it, her thumb brushing the yellow unfinished duck. She doesn't why her heart is still thrumming against her chest, and she'll blame that she's about to get her period for why she's crying looking at this old unfinished sweater.

But it's then when it hits her and she takes a sweep around his room, noticing the pictures of them on his bedside table (he has a few with everyone in them but none the only pictures he has of him with only one other person is one of him and Liam, and the rest are all of him with her). She tries not to dwell too much on how in some of those pictures he's looking at her, even the group ones where everyone's eyes are towards the camera, his are on her.

(She tries to ignore how in some of them _she's_ the one looking at him.)

Furthermore, she notices the compass, the miniature ship, the telescope she'd gotten him once he'd grown a bit obsessed with space (it cost her a shit ton but his answering grin was worth every penny), and the spyglass, all scattered around his room. Physical objects that he's kept throughout these years despite his apartment and life being the perfect example of a minimalistic.

With the sweater in her hand, all her given gifts around her, and the pictures, she realizes something: he's always been there for her. _Always._ She knows that even if things don't work out between them, he'll still be there for her. Because he loves her – not just in the romantic sense, but also in the platonic sense.

And she loves him too. He was, he _is_ right. They'd make a great couple because they are already a couple, because he is a sentimental sap who keeps her things, and maybe she also has a box of all the things he's ever gotten her.

And they deserve to be happy.

(Maybe its about time she told him so)

/

Killian finds her on his couch, wearing his Star Wars t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. He tries not to stare at her long legs and how she appears to not be wearing a bra. Her hair is wet and her nose is red, making him inwardly curse her for never checking the weather before she leaves her house.

"Hello, love" he greets her, trying his best to not stare at her for too long. He missed her. She'd barely even texted him, let alone call or meet up in person since the little thing he said to her almost a week ago. Sometimes he really did take things to far…behaving like some rom-com sod.

"Hey" she smiles, getting up from her seat and walking towards him. Then she's hugging him. Now he's hugged Emma Swan a lot in his life, but its usually him initiating a hug and its usually a quick one (the longer ones only when one of them is upset and need comfort). So it takes him some time to wrap his arms around her, to bury his face in her neck and smelling her coconut shampoo mixed with the scent of rain.

He hears her sigh and press herself closer to him, her breasts brushing against his chest and she's definitely _not_ wearing a bra. He's confused momentarily as this definitely doesn't count as a "friendly" hug, due to its length and the way they are tightly pressed to each other. But he's not complaining.

"Emma?" he finally whispers against her neck, because as much as he loves having her in his arms, he's getting worried now. Never having gotten this kind of attention from her.

She leans back, moving her hand from his back to his abdomen, and then travelling it up to his chest, clutching the lapels of his shirt in her hands.

"Hm?"

"Is everything alright, love?" he stares back at her, trying to read her eyes – they tell him everything, every time.

She smiles shyly, her tongue coming out to lick her lower lip, and it takes all of his will to not stare at it.

"I bring you rum" she says.

"What?"

"I bring you rum" she repeats, taking his hand in hers and making him follow her to the couch. Once he's seated, she sits beside him, a smile still playing on her lips, "I let you steal my onion rings" she continues, "I buy those stupid cookies you eat and keep them at my apartment just for you."

She leans into him a bit, their noses almost brushing. Killian feels his heart racing, hoping she can't hear the way its reacting to her. Could she really be – _no_ he tries to tell himself, not wanting to raise his expectations. _But_ the way Emma is staring at his lips, the way she's listing the things she does for him, a man can dream.

"I listen to you talk shit about what a big dick your boss is" she says, "I listen to you rant about Star Wars even though I could give less of a shit."

"I hold your hand whenever you get a new tattoo," her hand slides over his lap to where his hand is resting, "I…" he moves his face closer to hers, their lips almost brushing but he waits.

If this is (finally) happening, it has to be on her terms.

"You what, Swan?" he asks, and she's so close. He can feel her heartbeat, can see the blush rising her cheeks, the desire in her eyes. Involuntarily his hand tightens on hers as he tries to control himself from not kissing her senselness right then and there.

"I…" she repeats, tilting her head towards him, her gaze now intent on his lips.

"You…" he tilts his head as well, following her lead.

"I…"

And then she's kissing him. Her hands have found their way to his chest, tightly clutching the lapels of his shirt, while his prosthetic is resting against her back, pushing her further into him and his hand is buried in her golden curls.

She moves to settle on her knees, Killian understanding her silent wish as he leans back on the couch, and opens his legs wide. Then, her hands are on his shoulders and she's hovering over him, her hips not quite touching his.

He's half-hard already, and normally he'd be embarrassed at how easily he's gotten there but this is _Emma_ , and a 7-year foreplay has that effect on people. So he slips his hand over her clothed breast, swallowing her moan. His prosthetic moves down to rest against the swell of her ass, and he pushes her towards him then, hauling her over him until she's settled on his lap.

Her lips move to his jaw, and down to his neck as she grinds softly against him, Killian biting his lip tightly as to not come right here and right now before anything even started. Wanting to do something, and not just fall apart under her (though he doesn't mind, but he wants to touch her too), he slips his hand inside her, well _his,_ t-shirt and tweaks her nipple, making her gasp.

"God, Killian" she breathes, and he's heard her say his name many ways before – teasingly, angrily, annoyingly, but _never_ ever in this way – and he hopes he gets to hear her whisper her name like this many more times.

And as much as he's loving this turn of events, and would like nothing but to pick her up and lay her down on his bed, he has questions.

So unwillingly he retrieves his hand from where its cupping her breast and pushes it against her chest, making her sit upright. He sees the flash of insecurity in her eyes of whether she had read this all wrong and so he quickly speaks, "Emma, what changed your mind?"

She sits back, still perched on his lap, "I came across the sweater"

"Sweater?" he asks, perplexed.

"You know" she bits her lips shyly and he doesn't know what he's done to deserve Emma Swan sitting on his lap, flushed and blushing just after wrecking him, "the blue sweater I tried to knit back in college?"

"Oh" he says. _That_.

"Why didn't you throw it out like I asked you to?"

"You made it" he shrugs.

A wide smile breaks across her face, and she leans back in to press a kiss, a soft and sweet one this time.

"Thank you" she whispers against his lips, her eyes glassy with emotion.

"Thank you for what?"

"For being there. Always"

"Of course, love" he returns her smile. And because he is _he,_ he can't help but smirk, "So a sweater convinced you to be with me rather than all the reasons I've been listing for the past two months."

"I already knew you were good for me, Killian" she explains, "Your reasons just reminded me…but the sweater reminded me that you've always been there, and that I _know_ that no matter what happens with us, you'll always be there."

"Of course, I'll always be there, Emma. As long as you'll have me, of course."

"Good. Now stop talking. This is 7 years over due" she tells him as she pulls him to her, their lips meeting for another passionate kiss.

(Two weeks later, when he wakes her up with pancakes and sticky maple syrup laced kisses, she can't help but whisper "God, I love you", he kisses her back and instead of returning her words, he quirks a teasing eyebrow up and whispers, "Another reason for us – we love each other.") 


End file.
